Set You Free
by hermionesmydawg
Summary: With Deeks in jail, Kensi has to find Deeks' undercover journals to help discover the truth about who really killed Francis Boyle. Post 7x09 speculation fic.


_**A/N:** It is sort of frustrating that we have a two week gap between Defectors and Internal Affairs, and poor Deeks is just sitting in jail, waiting for his team to discover the truth. So, this happened. I don't have any insight or spoilers on this episode at all, so this is pure speculation and fun._

 _As usual, I own nothing._

* * *

 _"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." John 8:32_

It felt like a scene out of a movie - two lost souls destined to be together, but separated by an unbreakable force. He didn't speak at first, giving her time to gather the many thoughts that were clouding her judgment and making peace seem like an impossibility that night. The force was unbreakable, yes, but hopefully they were, too. Together, and apart.

There were the legitimate facts - that Francis, or Frank as he was commonly called, Boyle had been shot four times and left for dead on August 24, 2008. Because of the location, a cheap motel, forensics was unable to narrow down a suspect based on fingerprints and trace evidence. Her current partner, Martin Deeks, was this man's former partner, and was also on an undercover assignment in a nearby part of town when the murder occurred. It was on record that the two hated each other, with multiple complaints and arguments in their file histories. No one liked to finger a fellow cop for murder, though, so they looked in the other direction. With no eye witnesses at the time and little forensic data, the case was left unsolved.

Then there were the facts as Kensi knew them - that Deeks was the man that she spent every single day with, who lived in her bed and made them healthy breakfasts and cleaned up after her messes and had her back at all times and in all scenarios. This was the man who'd saved her life more times than she could count, and had no trouble pulling the trigger if she was in danger. She loved him, _God_ , she loved him. And he was flawed - she knew this and loved him in spite of it and because of it. He kept secrets and lies and bore the burden of them alone instead of sharing the weight. That was easier to ignore before watching him get arrested for murder and walk away in quiet resignation.

And now, in the holding area of the Metro Jail, she was all business. She had to be. "Did you call your lawyer?"

"Out of town. Will have to use somebody else for now. Are they gonna let me go?"

Her face hardened, remembering the struggle that she and Assistant Director Granger went through just for her to get in and see him. "No."

His eyes flickered down to her badge, prominently displayed on her hip. This wasn't Kensi here to visit him in his holding cell. It was Special Agent Blye. "I didn't kill him," Deeks said bluntly, the most honest statement he'd been willing to give up on this case since the investigation opened.

And Kensi believed him, because she always has. Special Agent Blye remembered his aloof and secretive behavior, however. Her reply was just as blunt. "Who did?"

Blowing out a deep breath, he curled his lips and gripped the metal bars dividing them. He seemed resigned again, as if having this conversation sealed his defeat. The past was full of demons, and they'd won. "I-I don't actually know if I remember."

"Is that another lie?" She accused.

"No," he replied sharply.

Kensi glanced at the other prisoner in his cell and lowered her voice. "So you're saying you knew at one point in time?"

He winced. "For sure, no. I had a few ideas."

"Help me then," she urged, face stoic but her eyes pleading. "There's nowhere else for you to run, and you're deluding yourself if you think I'm not going to go down every road to get you out of here. Whether you deserve it or not."

"Partners," he said softly, his lips curling into a brief smile. Partners gave each other the benefit of the doubt, they had each other's back no matter what. Even if the "what" was murder.

"Partners," she echoed.

"My gun safe." He cleared his throat and cut his eyes at an approaching officer. "The back wall is a pop-out divider. Start there."

* * *

It was incredibly late by the time Kensi parked outside of Deeks' home. The first thing on her mind should have been sleep, but no. She let Monty out, slipped into some pajamas, and cracked open her boyfriend's gun safe. The depth did seem off, now that she really paid attention to the interior of it. She didn't know what she'd expect to find back there, but she popped the divider out quickly. Behind the wall were stacks of small Steno pads, rubber banded together in groups.

The notepads were in rough shape, stained and well-worn on the outside. Under the rubber bands were post-it notes with dates and single names or descriptions on them in Deeks' neat handwriting. Ortega, Zuna, Gun Shop, and the one she was pretty sure she needed - Sanders. The time-frame for the Nelson Sanders undercover assignment was long, November 2007 to December 2008. She gathered the pads and climbed in his bed, preparing herself for what she might find when she delved into the world of Max Gentry.

Most entries would be irrelevant, she figured, but for some reason she wanted to read everything. Deeks was the one person in this world she was closest to, yet at times she wondered if she ever really knew him at all. She knew the parts he wanted her to see like the back of her hand, but what about the rest? Was there more, or was she just paranoid?

The bed was much colder than normal that night. Still much warmer than a cold cell, she thought. Neither one of them would get much sleep tonight.

 ** _12/8/07_**

 _Some are destined for greatness. Others are destined for shit._

 _At least I have an informant now._

 ** _1/1/08_**

 _Getting drunk on New Year's is supposed to be fun, right? Only if drinking isn't an everyday thing, I guess. It's easier to be like him when I drink. Asshole is in my genes._

 _I should have invested in Jack Daniels before this assignment. If there is a next time, I'll know better._

 ** _2/28/08_**

 _Met NS today. Smooth business man, never alone and keeps his secrets. Two at his side, one follows. Best info will be heard, not seen._

 _RM is as smooth as asphalt, but I trust him. I have to._

 _Pretty sure I'm coming down with the flu. Should have asked if gun running came with an insurance plan._

 ** _5/10/08_**

 _Drowning._

 _Fuck this shit._

 ** _6/11/08_**

 _RM looks at me like I have my shit together. I'm better at being a "bad guy" than he is. I'm fucking his wife. I may never be Marty again. I have nothing together._

Kensi yawned, not because she was bored, but because it was almost 5:00 in the morning. Some days had lots of information - locations and numbers and names. Most days were jokes or complaints, like his undercover journal was the only thing he could talk to. The deeper he got, the angrier his entries became. He had a handler for sure, but she couldn't figure out who it was.

Most names were only initials. Some were easy to decipher - Nelson Sanders, Ray Martindale, Nicole Martindale. Kensi tried, but couldn't help but cringing when she saw NM. There were others that popped up a lot - BB, RB, JS, AT. Those people she had no clue about.

She hated to do it, but needed to skip ahead to August. This was about that night, not his whole cover, after all.

 ** _8/24/08_**

 _Met with RB before the shit hit the fan._

 _I can't really explain it. AT got a call from JS right after I got to the motel for poker night, and said the words every undercover cop dreads._

 _"What do you mean you think he's a cop?"_

 _I was dead, I knew it, and RM would be too. But it wasn't me._

 _This place is shit, the people are shit, everything is shit. But some people are just lost, like she is. Her mom is sick and she needs money. I slip her some from time to time._

 _He was a piece of shit, too. Four shells on the floor, four in him. If JS did it, she was a hell of a shot._

* * *

Kensi woke up to Monty kicking notepads in her face, trying to get comfortable on the bed. The usually bright sun was hidden by clouds that morning. The dreariness seemed appropriate. She wondered how he'd slept. If he'd eaten. Probably not at all.

She had a few more "Kensi facts" to file away now, and a lot more questions. She'd read enough of his journals now to know that Deeks didn't lie in them. Every time he did something unethical, from handing out guns to beating the shit out of somebody, he wrote it down. And just like with this, discovering a murder, he wrote it down. The only difference was that when he was responsible, his words reflected remorse. That was the Deeks she knew and loved.

So who was JS? Who were RB and AT? She thought RB might be his handler, but wasn't certain. There was no way she'd be able to get into lockup to talk to him again, so she'd have to go to the next best source. After rushing through a shower, Kensi headed straight for Ops. What awaited her on the big screen made her stomach turn - Deeks' mugshot, and...Deeks Pacman running from the police?

"Really?" She scowled at Nell and Eric.

"Sorry about..." Eric stammered. "That. Just trying to keep the mood light."

"Kinda hard to lighten up a murder charge. Been there, done that," Kensi bristled as Sam, Callen, and Granger strolled into Ops with her. "I need all the original files from the investigation, STAT."

Nell nodded and tapped on her tablet. "On it."

"I don't think I need to remind you not to do anything rash, Agent Blye," Granger warned.

"We're all in this together, Granger," Sam countered. "Don't single her out. Deeks is one of us."

Granger frowned. "I don't like it, but technically, he's one of _them_."

"I hate technicalities," Callen mumbled.

"You two start at LAPD, Granger and I will hit the locals in the area," Kensi barked, ignoring the semantics and order of command. She turned to stare at Granger. "No?"

He nodded. "Yes."

* * *

Granger drove while Kensi caught him up on her journal findings, and then she skimmed the LAPD reports. Deeks was right in his journal - four shots in Boyle's center mass, eleven rounds still in his LAPD issue Beretta. No misses. So he was either shot by someone with good aim, or in ridiculously close proximity. The gun had been wiped clean of prints, but one thing was off from the story Deeks had told her a few months back. "He was shot with his backup weapon, not his primary," she thought aloud, reading the report. The weapon with the serial number matching his assigned Beretta was found in his car. "Backup records aren't kept up with like the primary weapons. It could have been another member of LAPD."

Granger glanced at her and parked her SUV. "You're not helping his case here."

She sighed, realizing he was right. Back to square one. Locals.

They walked the streets and businesses, nonchalantly asking questions about the cop's murder seven years ago. Most people remembered nothing, but one shop owner did. "They say another cop killed him," he said. "They sure didn't ask many questions at the time."

Kensi smiled. "Do you remember any female locals around here with the initials JS? Possibly a working girl?"

His eyes cut over for just a moment to his cashier, a sweet looking blonde woman in her mid twenties. Her face fell from sweet to panicked when she saw Kensi's badge, and before Granger had a chance to even introduce them, she took off running out the door.

Grunting, Kensi ran after the woman with Granger tight on her heels. _Why do people run?_ Don't they know that just makes them look guilty? And this chick was fast, and shifty. They split up, with Granger taking a shorter route to cut her off until they had her pinned in the corner beside a storage facility.

Kensi raised her gun, adrenaline pumping in her ears, but she felt a firm hand lower her weapon. This would be what Granger was referring to as rash behavior, she figured.

"My name is Owen Granger, this is Special Agent Kensi Blye, NCIS." Granger lowered his own weapon with the introductions. "We're not here to hurt you, just have a few questions. Starting with your name."

The woman nodded, shaking visibly. "Tiffany Williams."

"What?" Kensi blurted out. Not JS. "Why did you run?"

"I'm trying to start over, though I don't know why, this is the same damn place I've always lived," she started rambling. "I still have a few warrants for old offenses, and I saw the badges..."

"We're looking for someone with the initials JS," Granger interrupted. "A woman. Know her?"

"That's...me," Tiffany answered nervously. "I changed my name. Williams was my mother's name, Tiffany was my best friend growing up. I was born Julie Sanders."

Kensi took a deep breath and holstered her weapon. This was probably who they were looking for. "Any relation to Nelson Sanders?"

"God, no," Tiffany answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "My old, ah, friend Anthony, he used to work for him. He's dead, though. Anthony, I mean."

"What do you know about the murder of a detective seven years ago at that hotel a couple of blocks down the road?" Granger asked bluntly. Time was of the essence. "Were you with him the night he was killed?"

Tiffany gulped, a sob shaking her small body. "The detectives have already asked me these questions, recently. I don't want to go through this again."

"Hey, it's okay." Kensi heard herself say the words, like an out of body experience. She was so close to losing it herself, but was somehow still able to comfort this woman. "Did he hurt you?"

"Yes," Tiffany answered, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"And you shot him? In self-defense?" Kensi prodded.

The woman shook her head furiously. "No. I didn't shoot him."

"Who did?" Granger asked.

Tiffany coughed and glanced between the two of them. "The cop did."

* * *

This was not good, not good at all. But the more evidence they found implicating Deeks, the more she was convinced that he didn't do it. Yes, she knew that he had a tendency of being loose with the truth. If lies didn't come so easily to him, he wouldn't be such a good undercover operator. But she knew deep in her heart that he wouldn't be so bold as to say that he didn't kill the man if he had.

The question in her mind wasn't if he was capable of doing it or not. That much she knew was true. It's not easy doing what they do, and it takes a person with a certain quality to be able to do it. Most people can't take a life, even if it's necessary. All of them at OSP have to do it on nearly a weekly basis. It was almost routine for them. And the fact that Deeks had shot his own father as a child in order to protect his mother was in the forefront of her mind. He would have killed Boyle if he thought it was necessary.

But she still didn't think he did it. The car ride to LAPD to meet up with Sam and Callen was quiet. Granger didn't say what was on his mind, though she knew what it was - that the case against Deeks was strong. He had motive, opportunity, location, knowledge. And she didn't want to talk about it, so she pulled a journal out of her pocket and kept reading, looking for any other mentions of the cover-up or Julie Sanders.

 ** _10/17/08_**

 _We're close. I can almost taste the awful prison food coming to me when that son of an asshole Max Gentry gets arrested for his crimes and hopefully gets locked away forever. If RM doesn't turn into a chickenshit, anyway. I need out, and a night in jail never sounded so good._

 _JS should have gotten arrested tonight, but I recognized the Vice cop on patrol and suggested she take the night off. Bought her some dinner. She's way too young and too nice for this shit, and I told her that. "You're not as bad as they make you seem, Max," she said. But he is. Or I am. I won't miss him when he's gone._

Max. Not Marty. Kensi could blame her lack of sleep on missing it when they spoke to Tiffany, but Granger had no excuse. "She didn't know Deeks was a cop!" Kensi shouted.

"You're just now figuring that out?" Granger cut his eyes at her. "You give your partner less credit than I thought, Blye."

"I didn't sleep much. Dammit." Kensi sighed and took her seatbelt off as Granger pulled in next to Sam's Challenger, opening the door before he turned the car off. "We need to find his handler."

"Just got through talking to him." Callen strolled up to the car with Sam in tow. "Lieutenant Bates."

Roger Bates. RB. "What did he say?"

Sam shrugged. "Basic rundown of the Nelson Sanders case, not much we didn't know there. Insists that there's no way Deeks would have killed Boyle, even if he did hate him. He would have had no reason to be in that room or even know he was in the area."

"But Bates would have known. He could have seen him," Kensi argued. "Deeks said he met with him right before the shit hit the fan that night. His words, not mine."

Sam and Callen exchanged a look. Kensi threw her hands in the air. "What?"

"You sure you got the date right?" Sam asked. "Bates said he met with him the night after."

"Yes, I'm sure." Kensi pulled the little notepad from her back pocket and flipped through the pages until she got to August 24, then handed it to them. "See? And the next day, there is no RB. Not until the next week."

Sam scoffed, skimming the pages. "But why would Bates have shot Boyle?"

Granger grunted, signaling he was about to take initiative. "Only one way to find out."

* * *

Hours later, Kensi drove back to the Metro Jail, alone this time. Deeks didn't know it, but he would be released soon. She imagined his day had been hell - full of interrogations and accusations, with no real food, and no shower. He had a shy bladder, too, and didn't like to piss in front of a crowd. Now that she knew for sure he wouldn't have to stay here, that thought made her laugh out loud.

She waited outside, alone with her thoughts, anticipating his exit out of the glass doors in front of her. All in, they'd said they were, almost a year ago now. And she meant that in every aspect. She'd hidden things from him in the past when they were just partners, but not anymore. Even the silly things, like parking space bitches, she talked about with him. But his idea of _all in_ must be a little different than hers - he feared introducing her to his mother, he feared her reaction to whatever truths the investigation might reveal, and he's probably afraid to face her now. So much fear in someone so brave was something that Kensi just couldn't figure out.

And his role in the murder was so minimal that they probably wouldn't bother charging him with failing to report the crime. He was undercover and had to maintain that for his own safety. It wasn't ethical, but she understood it. What she still failed to understand was him.

She has tried not to be selfish, to not expect perfection. Nothing was perfect. He's not, and Lord knows she wasn't either. But up until this recent lack of trust, she saw _them_ as perfect. The two broken souls that fit together and completed each other. That might still be true, but there were broken bits of him she still didn't know about it, that he maybe never trust her with. Lies hurt, but sometimes the truth hurt more.

Deeks pushed the doors open with a great force, clearly wanting to get as far away from this hellhole as possible. Kensi had both the urge to hug him and punch him, but it looked like someone had already done the latter to him. He had a nice gash on his nose and a few drops of blood on his white shirt. He was still the most wonderful sight she could imagine. It wasn't until she wrapped her arms around his waist and felt his heart thumping against her cheek that she realized how close she could have come to not having him at her side anymore. A sob caught in her throat, choking her to the point where she felt like she couldn't breathe.

His hand cupped the back of her neck and he rested his chin on the top of her head. "It's okay," he whispered with a hoarse voice.

"Why are you consoling me, you were the one in jail," she squeaked out. All the emotions she'd been able to keep under control were rising to the surface now. This was a big deal. A big fucking deal. "For murder. _Murder_. Oh my God."

"Hey, whoa, calm down. You're shaking." Deeks squeezed her arms and pushed her away so he could see her face. Yeah, she was shaking and maybe freaking out just a little bit. And God, he looked like shit. "I _told you_ I didn't do it."

"Yeah, you did. And I still questioned you." She exhaled loudly and tried to calm down. "Please don't ever give me a reason to do that again. Every time the investigation came up, you acted secretive. When they arrested you, you went with them like you were expecting this to happen. You knew this case was what they were looking into and you lied. And for what?"

Maybe yelling at him just minutes after being released from jail wasn't what a good girlfriend would do, but screw it. If they were going to fight, might as well get it out now. Deeks licked his lips and let go of her arms. "I seem to remember you once saying that you only ever wanted me to see the best parts of you. Can that not go both ways?"

"It can, but maybe I was wrong. And if I thought I was going to be arrested for murder, I would run _to_ you. Not from you."

Deeks hung his head, but she saw a sad smile cross his face. "Pretty sure I've arrested you for murder before, Kens."

She nodded. "And what did I tell you back then?"

He raised his eyes. "That I was your partner, and I'm the only person you trusted."

"A lot has changed between us, but that hasn't, Deeks." Reaching for his hand, she squeezed it firmly. "I don't need to know everything. Some mystery is good. All I ask is that you trust me as much as I trust you."

"I will. I do." He squeezed her hand back and smiled apologetically. "I know how lucky I am. How many guys can say their girlfriend solved an old murder case for them? Probably not many."

"I much prefer to solve murders _with_ you, not because of you," Kensi teased. They weren't great right now, but they were okay. Well, okay enough for her to try to act normal again. Just being around him had a way of leveling her out. "Did you know it was Bates?"

Deeks sighed and ran a hand through his hair, curling his lips the way he always did when he was upset. "I didn't know for sure. I had my suspicions - the scene was clean, the shots were on point, and what kind of cop leaves his primary weapon in his car but brings his backup into a hotel room with him to meet up with a call girl? It didn't add up. But even if I had the proof, I wouldn't have turned him in. Bates is a good guy, Boyle was a dick. I don't know why it had to happen like that."

"I know now." Kensi closed her eyes, remembering the look of defeat on the old Lieutenant's face when they began digging further into his story. It was very similar to the look on Deeks' face when he realized why he was being arrested. "Bates saw Boyle with the girl, Julie or Tiffany or whatever you want to call her, that night. Boyle was supposed to be on duty, but he was high out of his mind and about to do some pretty bad things to that girl. Bates showed up to confront him about it and got a gun pointed at his face. It was self-defense. The problem was that he tried to cover his tracks instead of owning up to it."

"Owning up to it would have meant police presence that night and the next day at the motel. We had meets going on, it would have busted them up." Deeks bit his lip. "Bates has always been about catching the big fish. It cost him. It's kind of hard to be happy about being released, knowing what it means. Ya know?"

 _This_ was the Deeks she knew so well, and loved so much. The guy who felt guilty for being free when someone else wasn't. It may have seemed ridiculous, but to her it wasn't surprising. It was just _him_. Kensi snaked her arm around his waist and started leading him to her car. "Yeah, I know."

"I need a shower. And some food."

She smiled. "Yes, and yes. And maybe a band-aid."

"Cops aren't the most popular guys in lock-up, what can I say?" He draped his arm over her shoulder. "I have something I should probably tell you."

"Shoot."

"My mother's at my house," he said, cringing slightly.

Kensi snorted and shook her head with a smile. "Thanks for telling me this time."


End file.
